Sister Monica Joan
by AndreaAtlyss
Summary: A story completely on the life of Sister Monica Joan, finding her own way and giving up everything.


"Antonia! Why are your chores not done yet!?"

"I'm…I…I'm Sorry! I was hungry and tired. Please!" The young girl stood, hands covering her head and face from the hits and pain that was assaulting her.

The woman Slapped the door, causing a loud bang. Staggering away from the room and the crying child laid on the floor. The woman was older, grey stricken hair and the smell of old ale permeating her. The young teenager picked herself up, feeling the heat on her cheek from the hit. She slid to her knees and looked up to the heavens.

"Father, keep me, protect me, give me a home where I'm loved and wanted. Amen."

The words stung as she spoke them, knowing that it wasn't a possibility but there was hope. They were a comfort to her, soft and sweet. As she finished her grueling list of chores and work for the day she hummed old hems to herself as further comfort. When she finished she laid in her bed. It wasn't more than a hay cot and wool blanket, but it was warm and soft. The slow breaths she took relaxed her muscles that flowed with ache and tension from the work. One by one the breaths and gentle wind outside lulled her to sleep, dreaming of better days to come.

She had ran away at seventeen and assisted the nuns in their work training until she was old enough to join the order herself. They knew she had ran away, from what was the mystery though, she was thin and her clothes were almost shredded. She was covered in bruises and cuts, and it was obvious she hadn't bathed for a long while.

"We know nothing about this girl, she's a runaway!" Cried Sister Partridge, still young herself, but an ole pear trained to perfection in the midwifery business.

"This is true she did just show up, but she is scared and obviously has been abused. So we must love her." Mother Jesu was the level head of St. Raymond Nonnatus, keeping everyone in line and happy.

"My dear, you must be hungry and cold. Mother Jesu has went to fetch you warm dry clothes and run a hot bath, but before we can continue, may I ask your name?"

"Antonia…Antonia Keville." The weary eyed young girl was a million miles away, looking around at the warm building.

"Well Antonia it's nice to meet you, I'm Sister Aidas, we have warm shelter in exchange for answering a few questions. Think you can handle that?" The girl shook her head in return to her question.

"Are you being hurt?" She asked, sitting next to her resting a hand on top of Antonia's.

"Yes." It was a quiet short answer but nothing more was expected.

"I can see you have bruises and a cut on your forehead, will you allow me to tend to them? I won't hurt you." The young girl shook her head and followed the Sister into a small room, she shut the door behind them and sat on the old wooden chair.

The sister helped her remove her shirt, for she was in far too much pain to do so herself, the bruises on her arms, back and shoulders were black and blue and the four cuts she had would need cleaned and bandaged. When she was patched up she was served warm tea and felt safe, Antonia gathered all her courage to ask a simple, but huge question.

"Can I train like you? I…I want to take orders." Her hands were shaking, and almost sloshing the tea out of the cup she had. Fearing they would say no, her only safe and meaningful escape from her abusive home.

"Well my dear, you are only seventeen. Can you read and write?" Her eyes widened instantly.

"Yes sister, I love to read! I often borrow books from anyone and everyone, just for a new adventure. I'd read a book a day if I could!" That was it, she had found the thing that made young Antonia sparkle and shine, seeing the happiness flood her face she knew she had potential.

"Well my dear, we will teach you then, but you mustn't drag your past in with your present, for it will interfere and could be dangerous for you. You can join the order when you are of nineteen years of age, until then you will live here and learn the ways."

"Yes sister! Please, teach me everything, I ache to learn." Nothing could have prepared her for what Sister Aidas was going to say next. Her face dropped ten notches and she turned her brow.

"Antonia, you understand that to join you must leave your life, and all of your possessions behind. Correct?"

"Ye-Yes Sister, I do." It was a sad tone she spoke in, thinking about her small amount of things, that she wanted but knew she now couldn't have.

"Everything will be put into safe keeping, for such as a time that you will ever greatly need them, or decide to leave the order."

"Yes, Sister. I don't plan to leave though." She truly meant it too.

"Sister?" Antonia asked, leaving a knot in her throat, almost preventing her from speaking.

"Yes, Antonia?" Sister Aidas knew this was a lot for a young girl to take in, she wasn't but ten years older, but it was still hard when she joined to understand everything.

"I will return at noon tomorrow, with the small amount of things I have, and I must tell my parents that I will be leaving. They won't come looking for me, as they don't care." The brown haired girl began to cry, choking out her words.

"My-My mother calls me stupid…. a-and my father calls me a whore!" Her head dropped to her hands feeling full of shame and hurt.

"My sweet girl, you are now in a place of safety, love, hope, and joy! Dry your eyes and be welcomed to your new home."

When Antonia returned the next day her small bag of things were placed in her new room, and she was once again having a new wound cleaned. A clay vase was thrown at her head when she told her father and mother. They screamed at her drunken slurs of hatred, and ignorance.

Antonia was one of the first qualified midwives and later nurses, she trained and took her vows when she became of age, trading in her name for a religious name spending four whole days locked away in her room making her final decision on what she would be called for the duration of her life. This was her redo, it was a new and happy life. She became quite the baker, cookies, pies, puddings and her absolute favorite. Cake. It could be a coconut cake one day or a treacle sponge the next, if you could name it she could bake it!

Ten years after she took holy orders her mother passed away, leaving her a legacy. One necklace of pearls, one sapphire ring, and one diamond bracelet. They were turned over to the order and put away for safe keeping, soon being forgotten about, even by Antonia.

Antonia was born into a belligerent, but titled family. Her decision to become a nun scandalized her relatives, They never came to terms with her choice of the religious life. Antonia dedicated her entire life to providing midwifery services to the unstable and in need of the East End. She was known for her eccentric personality and mysterious qualities, spreading her book knowledge and love of the planets to anyone and everyone in her sight. Knitting and baking became her passing time sport, spending many a day making baby clothes and blankets for the people in need.

In 1895 she gave up her name of Antonia Grace Keville to become Sister Monica Joan until the twenty-fourth of September, 1966.


End file.
